In the Flash Before the Building Crumbled
by Zille
Summary: DH SPOILERS. It broke your heart. But never fear! It was only a well fabricated lie, a ploy orchestrated by a Dark Lord planning to rise up in the ashes of Lord Voldemort, who plans to use the skills of one Fred Weasley to succeed in his evil plans...
1. The Twin

**In the Flash Before the Building Crumbled**

_A story of denial, yes - and yet a story that could be true, if you choose to read it as such._

Summary: DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOILERS. It broke your heart – but it was naught but a well-fabricated lie, a ploy orchestrated by a Dark Lord planning to rise up in the ashes of Lord Voldemort, who plans to use the intelligence and cunning of one Fred Weasley to succeed in his evil plans…

Disclaimer: If I was Jo, this story wouldn't need to be written. JK Rowling is my favourite writer of all time, and I can't begin to express my gratitude that she left the trio and Ginny alive – but killing one twin and leaving the other alive? I'd never thought her capable of that, and it pains me more than I ever thought it would. This is where fanfiction can Save Our Souls, and I hope this will give you some satisfaction if you are as heartbroken as I am. There will be no more books. This _could _be canon. I know I'm going to see it as such, because the alternative is impossible for me to comprehend.

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Chapter 1: The Twin

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"You're joking, Perce!" Fred shouted excitedly, glancing over at his big brother, fighting right alongside him – as it should be. "You actually _are_ joking, Perce… I don't think I've heard you joke since you were -" and he broke off, feeling his body stiffen and his windpipe constrict briefly as something sharp and heavy hurtled him out of the way, something obstructed his vision for a brief moment – and then he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a body fall to the ground beside him, red hair obstructing the face of the fallen. _Percy!_ he thought wildly fighting as hard as he could against the magical binds, as somebody screamed. But wait… his heart caught in his throat as he got a closer look at the Weasley, smile frozen on his face, lying stiff on the ground only feet from where Fred was lying. His mind had gone into shock, only registering one word… _George._

It couldn't be, Fred thought desperately, struggling with the overwhelming feeling of despair coursing through him. He couldn't have lost his twin, he just couldn't have! He couldn't, full stop! He tried desperately to get a better look, and as Percy moved slightly out of the way, he saw – an ear, where an ear should not be. _'Ear, 'ear,_ his mind echoed. But wait. It couldn't be… Fred gasped soundlessly as he felt his body lift, floating away from the scene, and though everyone's eyes were on the body, he couldn't believe no one noticed... and he wondered, had he died? Should he be able to wonder at all though, if he was dead? And should he be floating along, quite aware of his stiff arms and legs, and struggling with all his might against the binds keeping them so, if his body was still lying on the ground where it had fallen, lifeless? Somehow Fred didn't think so. Besides, hadn't he just reasoned that George couldn't be dead? If that was the case, Fred couldn't be dead if George wasn't, either! Before they had entered this battle, they had decided on that. They were prepared to fight and, if necessary, die for Harry and a free and happy wizarding world, but they would not allow one to die without the other. They'd promised, Fred thought stubbornly. Where _was_ George, anyway? Fred felt ridiculous, floating on out of the castle, apparently unseen by any of his friends and family as they cried out in grief, gathered around his fallen body… this was all very undignified, he thought. And then the world went black.


	2. Neither Can Live

A/N: This, seriously, is torture to write. I feel tears pouring down my cheeks, because somewhere I know that this is not canon. Yet I implore you all to remember, the one good thing about the series ending is that we never saw the aftermath of this, never saw George alone, we never even saw evidence that an Avada Kedavra was ever cast! So just stick with me please, Fred Weasley lives on if we choose to believe it.

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Chapter 2: Neither Can Live

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He heard the wails of grief from his mother before he saw what had caused them. The Death Eaters were retreating, and George had been outside, making sure they kept their word, and that everyone else made it back into the Great Hall safely. A body was just visible under his mother, who was desperately clinging to whomever had fallen – George felt a sense of increasing dread. He half wanted to just stay where he was, avert his eyes, hold on to this moment where he didn't know who was dead, where he could pretend like no one was. Percy, however, had spotted him, and from the look of shock and renewed grief in his eyes…

_No,_ was all George could think as he passed the Great Hall in fewer strides that would seem possible, _No, no, no,_ his mind was echoing, because it just could not be. It must be Bill, or Charlie, or anyone else, and they would grieve together, because that was just the way it was… his mind stopped working as he neared the group of mourning Weasleys, and he got a glimpse of the body they were all gathered around. It was as if time had stopped, it seemed the others were all retracting slightly, giving him space, all except for their mother, who was still sobbing over Fred's body. George fell to his knees at Fred's head. He saw a flash of two young men, standing side by side and admiring their new dragon hide suits – how hideous there were, but how wonderfully expensive! Someone had closed Fred's eyes, it was obvious he had been AK'd quite suddenly, his last grin still on his face … Fred's voice echoed in his head. "_We've had a pretty good life, eh Forge? If we die now, I'll say I'll be pretty satisfied with what we've accomplished, wouldn't you?"_ And George's reply, equally cheekily as they prepared to leave their flat, stuffing their pockets with Skiving Snackboxes and Peruvian Darkness Powder, just in case, "_Sure will be Gred, we've come a long way. Of course, if only one of us…"_ he'd trailed off, the merest trace of uncertainty marring his features as he caught Fred's eye. "_That won't happen," _Fred had assured him, seeming quite sure of himself. At George's continued scepticism, Fred only grinned more broadly. "_Come on mate, Forge couldn't exist without Gred, and vice versa! We've always been together, you and I, I don't think we could ever be separated! That's just not possible!"_ and then they'd done something they hadn't done for many, many years - they hugged each other, however briefly and with quite an overload of manly claps on the back. They'd never had the need for such signs of affection, just like you would never need to hug yourself to emphasise how much you loved you. But the situation had seemed to call for it. And then Fred and George - or Gred and Forge, it really didn't matter at all – walked side by side through the doorway, and Apparated away. Always together. They'd never even tried to have it any other way.

George's vision was obstructed by unshed tears, as he stared down at the hard, cold reality. He hadn't honestly thought it possible, not really. Maybe because facing a future alone had just been unimaginable. And as he sat there, aware of the many eyes upon him and the lifeless shell of his twin in front of him, he wondered how he could not have known when it happened. It seemed preposterous that one could have died without the other realising, unreal. Yet here he was. Alone. It wasn't a joke, and George knew in that moment that there would never be another. Fred had been right. One twin could not live without the other, indeed.


	3. Another

A/N: Hey guys! Chapters are getting longer and hopefully more upbeat soon, I promise – I realise I'm being very grim in my description of George's situation because I'm operating from the standpoint that duh, of course Fred isn't dead… I hope I can manage to convince you all of the same! Because guys, FRED IS NOT DEAD!!! At least not necessarily! Look at it this way: Jo was prompted to write this story, and all that she knows about the HP universe, she's written down. Fred's death was ambiguous at best. Let's take that as a good sign! We make our own canon now. Thank you so much for your reviews!! It's good to know I'm not alone, and I hope this story will help you!

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Chapter 3: Another

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Fred opened his eyes, and blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, taking in his surroundings. _Where the hell am I?_ he thought. He flexed his fingers, relieved that he was able to move again, but groaning as he tried to sit up. His entire body was aching as though he'd been under the Cruciatus Curse for hours. But why bother torturing if he'd been unconscious? Unless, he thought, he'd been awake, and they'd Obliviated him or something… but again, what would be the _point?_ Fred thought, slightly annoyed, despite his perilous predicament. None of this made any sense!

He heard a shuffling noise and jerked his head around too fast. "Ouch," he grumbled, closing his eyes briefly to block out the pain. And that's when he felt a sharp surge of emotion, a disembodied grief that caught him off guard, he gasped in the intensity of it – and then it was gone, and before he had time to wonder about it, a voice cut through the darkness.

"You're awake," a man mumbled, and Fred felt something cold and wet dab at his forehead. He opened his eyes and came face to face with-

"Florean?" Fred exclaimed in disbelief. The man was thinner, paler and more morose-looking, but there was no mistaking him – it was Florean Fortescue, the very same, the owner of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor in Diagon Alley! Fred and George had spent many a happy moments there… Fred felt a brief pang but put it out of his mind for now – he needed to focus on the situation at hand. "Florean," he continued, "We thought you were dead, mate!" Fred and George had been on very good terms with Florean, having corresponded frequently about how to open an independent business while they were still at Hogwarts – they'd been planning to meet up and look at premises together when Florean had disappeared without a trace. That had been almost two years ago, yet here he was, alive and, seemingly, well.

"It's… complicated," Florean mumbled, lowering the wet cloth and avoiding Fred's eyes. Fred frowned. "Look, are you alright Fred? It is Fred, right? You're the one he… he wanted, but I don't know if they got the right-"

"He?" Fred cut across Florean's nervous ramblings, dread slowly creeping up his spine. "You-Know-Who, you mean?"

Florean frowned. "You-Know… oh, him," he chuckled mirthlessly, which only unsettled Fred more. "You-Know-Who has been vanquished," Florean said matter-of-factly, ignoring Fred's incredulous look. "No, the Dark Lord I speak of…" his voice trailed off, as he glanced towards the door.

Fred's head was spinning, he had so many questions. He followed Florean's gaze, his eyes sweeping over the dimly lit stone room they were occupying, to a simple wooden door directly across from where he was lying.

"Who is out there?" Fred asked quietly.

But before Florean had time to reply, the door swung open and a man entered, his roughened face twisted into a sinister smile, his reddish brown hair and beard as wild as ever, as he regarded the two men on the floor.

"You!" Fred exclaimed, feeling nothing but sheer disbelief. Before him stood Rufus Scrimgeour, former Minister For Magic – not dead in the least.

What was going _on_ here?


	4. The Impossible Task

A/N: Yay I'm glad you all enjoy this story!!! Here's another chapter, more coming soon. I am still terribly upset, but starting to sink into the sweet covers of denial… it's just so obvious for me that Fred survived, and even if Jo comes out and says like, Fred died the end haha, then that doesn't matter, because we know The Truth! I'm not crazy, hehe. Thanks so much for the reviews!! It means a lot to me that this story makes a difference for you! It sure gives me hope :) So just hang on through this chapter… it'll all get better soon.

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Chapter 4: The Impossible Task

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He buried his brother today.

A mother buried her son, a sister buried her big brother, a young man buried a friend – and a twin buried a part of himself, leaving a void that, unlike his siblings', could never begin to be filled.

Percy stood in the doorway looking towards the lake, where George was sitting, alone. It was unnatural, and he couldn't bear to see it. He couldn't even begin to imagine what George must be feeling, his own despair seeming so complete, so overwhelming.

George didn't seem to register Percy as he approached, not even when he sat down next to him on the grass. George's eyes were red, but dry. Percy had seen him go through the motions in the past few days – denial, screaming, crying, clinging desperately to his brother's body as it was about to be lowered into the ground, and now radiating a sort of detached emptiness – the five stages of grief, Percy thought bitterly. What heartless bastard would think of such a clinical way to label emotions which no human should ever have to experience? Besides, while they might apply to the rest of the Weasley family, and all of its extensions, it could never be that simple for George. Percy had never heard of any bond like Fred and George's, in the wizarding world or elsewhere. When he was younger he'd been jealous of it. Bill and Charlie had been the oldest, both very rough and feisty, somehow removed from their younger siblings – Fred and George hadn't had space in their little world for big brother Percy, Percy with his nose in a book and academic ambitions. Percy had hated it. Now, he felt a terrible sense of relief that he had never been included in that bond, he'd never been completely dependent upon any of his siblings, never been a part of a pair – because while it might not have been as fun growing up, he would never have to deal with losing such a connection. He'd never imagined that George or Fred would have had to deal with it either, which was why it had been so easy to despise them for being so close. But the unimaginable had happened, and here George was. Just George. It was just not a thought that made any coherent sense in Percy's mind, and he hated that feeling.

George spoke for the first time, his voice raspy, snapping Percy out of his reverie. "I didn't feel it," he said, his tone emotionless. Percy had never thought he'd hear his brother speak like this. His brother, always so happy and joking, completely content with the world and his place in it – right next to his twin. "When he died," George continued, each word stated in a monotonous, matter-of-fact voice. "I should have felt it." He looked over at Percy, whose heart broke at the desperate gleam in his brother's eyes. "I should have felt it," he repeated in a whisper, dropping his gaze again.

Percy didn't say anything, only scooted a bit closer to George. In a sense, he thought, George was right. He'd thought George would have come running immediately after it had happened, but he hadn't come until much later, when they had already moved Fred into the Great Hall. He remembered when they were much younger, it had been one of those rare moments when their mother had separated the twins, obviously still hoping that they could form separate personalities and relationships with the other siblings. George had been sent outside to play with little Ron and Ginny, while Fred and Percy were inside, Percy attempting to play school with his little brother, who had filled the role of the trouble kid only all too well, when suddenly Fred's eyes had widened and he had bolted out of his seat and raced for the back door into the garden. At first Percy had thought it was part of the game and had shouted that class was still in session, when suddenly he'd heard little Ginny crying and Ron yelling something – he'd hurried out after his brother and the sight before him had him nailed to the ground. George was lying, soaked to the bone and unmoving next to the pond, Fred shaking him desperately, Ginny wailing on the ground next to them, and Ron running around in circles on his short legs, calling for their mother who'd come running and with amazing control and calmness ordered Percy to tend to Ginny, while checking George over with her wand, muttering various spells, holding onto Fred with her free hand. And George had awoken, coughing up water gasping for breath, and Fred had cried in relief, clutching his twin, who clutched back feebly, grinning weakly as he muttered, "Fooled you," to which their mother let out a choked sob, finally giving into her emotions and grabbing both twins in a fierce embrace.

Fred had known, before even Ron and Ginny had realised that their brother wasn't moving. There had been other situations in which the twins could sense the other's pain before anyone else. So why, then… Percy followed George's gaze out to the point in the lake where, so many years ago, Fred had dived headfirst into the pond and single-handedly pulled his brother out of it. They had been around six years old, at the time.

"I should have known," George whispered again, his eyes never wavering from that spot in the pond. And Percy knew, from the expression on George's face, that he would not be alright, despite what their father kept desperately assuring the distraught Weasley children. How could he be, ever? The rest of them would heal, get jobs and families of their own, and Fred would exist as a happy memory, one to be brought forth and cherished when need be. But for George… there was no life without Fred. And it was too late to start one.


	5. Florean's Secret

A/N: Hey everyone! I've been sick all weekend with the flu – no wonder really, having stood for 13 hours last week waiting for you-know-which book lol, but now I'm feeling better again and am able to update the story! I'm so happy you all like it, it makes me happy to write too – it's sort of nice, because even though Fred died and all, I'll still always consider this at least a possibility. Haha Jo (who rocks and owns the world btw /disclaimer )! I think time really will make a difference, I feel like I'm coming to terms with the whole situation a little bit more now – I'm able to think about HP and read opinions on the last book now without feeling sick to the stomach. I'm not near the point where I can re-read book 7 yet, and I still get tears in my eyes reading the other books (and the 5th movie, has anyone tried to watch it after reading the book?? I did, and I dissolved into tears in the scene where Fred and George comfort the little boy… everyone were like wtf. Blissfully ignorant, they are)… but I'll get there. Eventually. I might write a one-shot, independent of this story, about George actually dealing well with the loss of Fred… but for now this is much more fun ;) Oh and also, I know Angelina is like Fred's canon girlfriend, but I never know for George – I never really cared much about George tbh… sigh. It was always Fred for me. But yeah so I don't want to make crazy fanon references (that can really ruin a fanfic), so it'll definitely be either Alicia or Katie. I'm leaning towards Katie, but if anyone feels really strongly about it I'm open for change. :)

Enjoy the chapter! The mystery of Fred's death is resolved... I really think I nailed it - I'm sure Jo's hands are feeling pretty sweaty right now because I've figured all out.. It's like, so obvious! XD

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Chapter 5: Florean's Secret

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Fred sized up the man before him – he was pretty tough looking, but he was old, walked with a cane, and seemed to suffer from various war injuries. What was so great about him? He glanced at Fortescue – the man was no warrior, but he was a healthy, reasonably aged man, and when he'd first been captured he'd been in decent physical shape… why hadn't he escaped?

Fred turned his full attention back to Scrimgeour. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he spat, his hands balling into fists at his side. Of course he didn't have his wand, he didn't expect to anyway, but if it came down to fisticuffs, Fred liked to think he stood a pretty good chance – all those years of wrestling with George had done him well. George – an inexplicable sadness once again tore through his gut, quite detached from his own emotions. He closed his eyes for a split second, willing it away. When he opened his eyes again he found Scrimgeour leering at him. "Well?" Fred said, annoyed at Scrimgeour's silence.

"I think I'm taking over the wizarding world," Scrimgeour sneered, "And you, Mr. Weasley, are going to help Mr. Fortescue here make that happen." Fred stared incredulously at Florean, who cowered in a corner.

"And what makes you think I'd-" Fred started, but Scrimgeour cut him off.

"It's quite simple really," said Scrimgeour. "If you don't collaborate – and I will know if you don't – I'll kill your family. I know," he continued, at Fred's look, "Nothing particularly innovative and probably quite a clichéd answer from an evil overlord such as myself (Fred rolled his eyes), but I have the power to do it, Mr. Weasley, and then those deaths will be on your conscience." He looked so smug at his seemingly foolproof plan that Fred wanted to slap him – he wished no danger to his family, but did this man have no idea who he was dealing with? Fred _lived_ to rise to challenges such as these!

"And don't you think my family will come and find me?" Fred contested. To his surprise – though he didn't show it of course – Scrimgeour started to laugh.

"Your _family_?" he asked incredulously. "You mean those broken wrecks that just buried one of their own? Your brothers and sister, so heartbroken they can do nothing but go about their daily lives, willing themselves not to think, not to feel? Your parents, so laden with shock and anguish that they can do nothing but cry in each other's arms?"

Fred stood frozen in place. _Buried one of their own…_ "Who did you-" he said hoarsely, but was once again cut off.

"You stupid boy! I thought you were smarter than this!" Scrimgeour snapped. "Who do you think they buried – or rather, who do _they _think?"

Fred's eyes widened – the body he'd seen fall to the ground, Percy's cries of anguish… "How…" he trailed off, completely lost for words.

"Ah," said Scrimgeour, "This is where your old friend comes in," he inclined his head towards Fortescue, who seemed to have shrunken to half his size, huddled in a corner. Fred turned to him, thunderous – it seemed the only emotion he could muster. "YOU did this?" he all but shouted, "How could you, Florean?"

"Oh don't be so harsh on him," Scrimgeour said silkily. "He was under the same ultimatum that you now are. He refused to cooperate, actually, at first. Why do you think it took me so long to go undercover? But you know Florean's brothers, Filius and Tim? Well, with all the murders the past months, I'm sure you didn't notice."

"You killed them," Fred breathed.

"Only one of them," Scrimgeour shrugged. "Tim Fortescue is safe and sound – for now. I wouldn't kill them both of course, what leverage would I have over Florean then? And I need him, almost as much as I need you. Florean makes up for what he lacks in courage and appearance (Florean flinched, but said nothing) with brains, as I'm sure you've noticed. He's quite the inventor himself actually – I don't think there's anything that man cannot do with ice cream."

Fred's eyes widened. "You mean to tell me," he said slowly, "That you've faked both our deaths… with _ice cream sculptures_??"

Scrimgeour laughed again – a horrible wheezing noise that Fred was quickly coming to detest. "Exactly! Melting free, hard and soft, raspberry flavour – my favourite – and all the colours of the rainbow! It's a foolproof plan! No one would ever expect it, therefore they will not know what to look for! Because who would ever think," Scrimgeour rasped, trying to catch his breath, "To _taste_ the bodies of Rufus Scrimgeour and Fred Weasley?"

If George had been there, Fred thought distractedly, he would have laughed at the look of revulsion on Fred's face. Wait a second. George…

"George will know," Fred stated. He knew they had a connection this way – Fred had sensed George's death once, hadn't he? George would know…

"My _dear_ boy," Scrimgeour sneered. "Why do you think we took _you_, and not George?"

And he turned on his heel and slammed the door, leaving Fred in confused silence.

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Bet you didn't see that coming! I hope this was a satisfying explanation of how Fred survived… lol if there ever was any, I think this would be it. And so many mysteries… I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far!


	6. Ray of Hope

A/N: Hahaa SilaOfCreo, Fred is not-dead, I love it! And I so agree. We might be crazy… but what's the alternative?? No, I see no reason that Fred is really dead-dead. Hence, MUAHA! I am so glad you are all enjoying the story!! Its really helping me as well, like therapy. I'm playing the OotP game right now and have not once burst into tears, not even when I was playing as Fred! I'm getting used to the idea (also, Lupin and Tonks, they didn't even have to die! Aaaaargh!), but still, this fic tells me there's more about that whole "death" than we were led to believe ;) And illusen, yes it's out there, that was sort of the point – if we have to be delusional, let's do it right:P And that wasn't a jab at H/Hr shippers, just to clarify, that word has become like taboo in the HP community… oh well, on with the story!

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Chapter 6: Ray of Hope

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A few days later, George was still sitting by that blasted pond where he'd nearly drowned fourteen years ago. Mostly his family had left him alone – George suspected they just didn't know what to say to him. And he'd noticed that they seemed to be avoiding looking at him, which he supposed was understandable – he was the child and brother they'd lost, sans an ear really. At first glance anyway. He couldn't blame any of them for feeling this way… only it made it ten times worse. Only Percy, ironically enough, seemed to be able to look at George as _George_, and not as one of the two, part of an inseparable pair that had been severed, leaving the remaining half to flounder helplessly, slowly suffocating in the aspect of one of its vital organs. But how long would Percy be able to look him in the eye, when would it become easier to just look away? George hadn't smiled since he'd seen his brother's body, mainly because there had been no reason to, but he was also terrified that if he did smile… he would become Fred to them. And they'd wish he could be. Their eyes would fill with hope and happiness for a brief moment before they realised that no, it was only George. Fred would never come back. George hadn't let himself think about the future at all, leaving WWW products to rot in an increasingly dusty store, but now he suddenly got a flash of himself five, ten, twenty years away – alone, only another Weasley son, avoiding family dinners because his mum would always, if she accidentally caught his eye, get a haunted and teary look, remembering what had been lost. What kind of life could he possibly ever lead?

He heard footsteps, but didn't bother looking to see who was approaching. They'd leave, or else make themselves known.

He was slightly surprised when the figure sat down next to him, and he got a look at her out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't help himself, he turned his head and stared at her, focusing his attention on another human being for the first time in days.

"Hey George," Katie smiled, looking quite at ease with the situation. George didn't know whether to hug her, for being the first person who'd spoken to him normally, or shake her for not acknowledging his loss. His loss – it felt strange to even think it. Fred, half of the Weasley twins, had become _George's loss_. How ridiculous. Fred was no one's anything!

George settled for nodding his head at Katie, but held her gaze. He hadn't seen her for years, except for their brief encounter in the Room of Requirement before the Final Battle. She was as pretty as he remembered her at Hogwarts – long dark blond hair and brown eyes, and the sweetest smile he'd ever seen… George and Katie had never been more than friends, much to George's chagrin – and Fred's, for that matter. Fred had been dating Angelina in their final year, and thought it would have been brilliant if George took up with one of her best mates – Fred had been convinced they'd all get married eventually and live in neighbouring apartments, each have a set of twins – they'd laughed for ages imagining the look on McGonagall's face when not one, but _two_ sets of Weasley twins had walked down the entrance hall for the first time, turning plates into toads as they went… George shook his head. He couldn't let himself remember, ever. It just hurt too much.

Katie sighed and broke eye contact, seemingly sensing his distress. George knew Katie had suffered her share of pain and loss in the war – she'd lost her parents half a year ago, and last year of course there was the horrible cursed necklace. When Katie had been transferred to St. Mungo's, Angelina had apparated into their apartment in complete distress and they'd all gone down to see her – but only Angelina had been allowed by Katie's parents to go in, George and Fred having been deemed not close enough. Not good enough, George had scoffed and Fred nodded grimly. They'd never liked Katie's parents much after that, but their deaths had still come as a big shock – as all deaths of people they knew had done. George had once again attempted to get in contact with Katie, but she'd been impossible to find – gone into hiding, undoubtedly, like so many others.

And now she sat beside him, close enough to touch… come to help him, undoubtedly, in any way she could – because that was Katie, and why he had fallen in love with her all those years ago. But what did any of it matter? He'd never be able to come home from a date and stay up all night talking about it with Fred, or to discuss which ring to buy with Fred, or to pace the waiting room anxiously, Fred by his side, sharing his anxiousness, yet sure to find something funny about the situation when George could not… and George would never be able to do the same for Fred.

Katie glanced over at him, and tentatively took his hand. She never spoke, and George knew she understood. No empty assurances, no attempts to make him feel better about something no one could change. George glanced down at their entwined hands, and felt the ghost of a smile tug at his lips. This was why he loved her.

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Just a short little chapter, sorry, not much plot – I am going to start the real action soon, but this was a very important chapter for me to get in there. One of the first things that made the Harry Potter series stand out to me, I remember very vividly, was that before Harry got into Hogwarts, before he was saved from a horrible life in such an unlikely way, there actually seemed to be another small light at the end of the tunnel for him. Harry would have gotten into Stonewall High, and though his uniform was awful he'd be away from Dudley and his friends, and Harry's existence might just have improved – no magic involved. It meant everything to know that without Hogwarts, Harry wouldn't have been completely doomed – sure it saved him in many ways, but it wasn't like the only way out. This is the same – Fred might actually be dead (_river in Egypt, river in Egypt_), and in that case there has to be something that would eventually be able to help George have a good life, albeit not half as good as if Fred had been in it. We've solved that problem, but it's nice to think that George is not completely dependent on Fred to be alive… sigh, I hope. Oh also, I realise that I've done the unthinkable – the author's note is almost as long as the chapter itself! _Engorgio chapter 7_! I promise!


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